


Midnight Howl - Moon River

by skargasm



Series: The Midnight Howl [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, LJ Prompt, M/M, Songfic, talk of mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 18:51:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1195725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is a radio talk show host who chats about his love-life on air. And tonight they're celebrating Valentine's Day.</p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <a href="http://imgur.com/jI0muuB">
      <img/>
    </a>
  </p>
</div>Banner made by Ravensclaw<p>Song!fic ~ <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kYskqvHHI-M">Moon River</a> performed by Katie Melua.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Howl - Moon River

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ronniemarie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronniemarie/gifts).



“This is the Midnight Howl, my name is Stiles and I’d like to welcome you back to Beacon Hills’ other radio station. Only a little late for Valentine’s Day but we’re hoping to bring you some romance nevertheless. Tonight, we wanna hear all your truly romantic stories—or even the times romance hasn’t quite worked out for you. And because my best bud Scott is always telling me that I’m a dirigible—yes, some of that SAT stuff stayed in his brain—and that I never really share anything personal despite how much I talk, I decided that I will finally, _finally_ share the story of how Derek proposed to me!” 

Stiles grinned as he saw Catrina’s jaw drop as this particular story had been a long time coming. It wasn’t even something epic or amazing—it wasn’t the most romantic proposal ever to happen. But it was theirs and on the first Valentine’s Day since they got engaged he finally felt like sharing it.

“So—“

~ o O o ~

“You know, I’m actually heartily sick of sewing your insides back in after they’ve been on the outside.” Slamming into the loft, Stiles threw his backpack onto the couch.

“Stiles—” Sometimes it was way obvious that Derek spent too much time with Scott—he’d even started using the puppy dog eyes of doom which was only something he could have learnt at Scott’s knee—or rather, paw.

“No, no, that is so not going to work tonight. You promised me one night off—no hydras, witches, centaurs—nothing. For once, we were going to have a night out—watch a movie, make out in the back seat; go to dinner and suck face over spaghetti—without being dragged into supernatural angst. I have had enough angst to last me a lifetime.” He wasn’t sure what it said that he knew exactly how much thread was needed to sew up a gash on Derek’s bicep, taking into account any *ahem* flexing Derek might choose to do during the healing process. What? He might no longer be a teenager but he had a very healthy libido and everyone knew life and death situations tended to lead to life affirming sex. “Sit there.” 

“Stiles—“

“Did I say you could talk? I mean, I know we’ve discussed the need for you to use your words and you’ve been getting better—verbal enough that Isaac was asking me the other day just what I did that made you scream like that—ah, ah, ah, keep still.” He knew he was wincing but he would never get over how it felt to actually _have_ to stitch Derek up. It took a lot injury-wise for it not to be best to just let it lie and knit itself back together—there had been a time when even after a particularly feral bear they’d all sat and watched Derek’s insides re-arrange themselves before the skin knitted itself back together—completely barf-worthy in a completely fascinating and awesome way. So whatever that thing had had on its claws had to be pretty spectacular for stitching to be the only way to go. Finally taking a moment to look around the loft, Stiles realised that not only was Derek’s t-shirt unbloodied, but that it was also not torn. 

Anywhere. 

In fact, there were no signs of a fight that he could see anywhere. But he seriously couldn’t think of any other reason why they Derek had insisted he come round immediately. “Derek, where’s the blood?” 

“I did try to tell you.” 

“No, what you _did_ was send me a message telling me to get my ass over here as soon as possible—that generally means you’re bleeding from at least one orifice.” More things were beginning to register. “Derek, what’s that playing on the stereo?” 

“Uh—you mentioned you liked it so I thought I would give it a listen.” It was Katie Melua singing ‘Moon River’ and Stiles had mentioned it once. Six months ago. During a midnight drive to save Isaac from a succubus. Seriously, how the fuck had Derek remembered that? 

“Derek—you **do** know I’m pretty much a sure thing, right? I mean, if you’ve got my favourite pizza turning up, we’re set for a debauched evening. Romance is not necessary when you look like you and as long as I have eyes.” 

“Will you sit down?” 

“Oh my God, you’re breaking up with me? After the things I’ve let you do to my innocent young body, how can you—okay, kidding, _kidding_.” Accepting the slightly heavy handed nudge from Derek, Stiles let himself fall onto the couch, bouncing up and down on purpose to make Derek’s eyebrows do the upside-down vee thing. “Hey, you okay? You look a little grey there.” Sitting forward, he put his hand onto Derek’s leg, pulling back with a ‘whoa’ when Derek slid gracefully to the ground until he was resting on one knee. “Umm—“

“I’m grumpy, set in my ways, argumentative, bossy and not quite sure why but I love you. And you’ve accepted every single wolf thing I’ve asked of you to make me feel more secure. You—the trust you have in me, the faith you constantly show in me—are the reason why I have a pack; you’re the reason I’m even considering the whole Werewolf Alliance Network position—I just—Stiles, you may not realise it but you mean everything to me. Marry me.” 

He didn’t do speechless—it wasn’t the way his brain worked. But for once, his brain seemed to have taken a vacation. Because he had nothing to say.

“Isn’t there normally some sort of token of affection?” Where that came from he had no idea but at least the awkward (to him) silence was broken. Well, until Derek brought his hand from behind his back and grabbing Stiles’ right hand, dangled something over his open palm. It was silver, heavy and he could feel the ‘tingle’ that said it was magical. Shaped in a circle, with a tree sprawling across it and a moonstone shining through the branches like a full, heavy moon. “A dreamcatcher?”

“I know sometimes the nemeton still bothers you when you’re sleeping.” And that right there was a big part of why he was in love with Derek—he might not say much, but he watched and he paid attention and he did whatever he could to keep his people safe. Always. “Stiles—still kinda waiting here.” 

“What? OH! No question—yes, hell yes!” The relief on Derek’s face was kinda laughable—that there was ever a question regarding Stiles’ response. He gave an oomph as Derek leapt to his feet, dragging him along too until they stood chest to chest and he was being possessed by that beautiful mouth, sharing a kiss that said how worried Derek had been. Such a dumb Sourwolf to think that Stiles would walk away from what they had—although normally, it took something external to make Derek actively insecure. Which was when his brain finally kicked in and he figured it out. “Okay, which one of them made you panic? Was it the blind one, Deucalion? Dude, I swear he was messing with you when he was asking me to become his emissary—seriously.”

“No, it wasn’t—“

“Please don’t tell me it was that Kali woman? She needs a major pedicure and her emissary Julia would probably kill me three different ways just to make sure I stayed dead. I don’t wanna die a human sacrifice!” 

“Stiles—“

“Well I know the boytoy twins are all about our little Scottie so my ass is safe. So, spill it.” However nice the kiss Derek laid on him was, Stiles managed to keep his brain switched on. “Spill.”

“I was talking to your Dad—“

~ o O o ~

“So there you have it. My alpha— **the** Hale Alpha of Beacon Hills was basically shot-gunned into proposing to me by my own father who decided that he wanted me to be properly wed before he was presented with grandchildren. Although the whole magical idea of being able to have pups is something I am only just getting my head around so we’ve probably got time before we have the wedding! But, I personally think my alpha did a damn fine job—I got Katie Melua, pizza and a dreamcatcher! And that bizarre hyena noise you can hear is our Sound Engineer, Catrina, hopefully choking to death. Save me from her opinions on my love life—caller, you’re on the air.”

“Dude—your alpha sounds whipped!! Are you saying a human made him propose?”

“Whipped? No, he’s not whipped. He just knows how much it means to me for my dad to be happy. And let’s not forget, it’s just another way of marking me as his.”

“Huh, never thought of it like that.”

“Well there you go—that makes two thoughts you’ve had in one evening—it’s probably the most activity your brain has experienced in at least the last five years! Hello, caller, you’re through to the Midnight Howl.”

“Stiles.”

“Dad!” He was kinda surprised to hear from his dad—he didn’t think he’d said anything particularly bad during the course of the show. Nowhere near as bad as the late night NC17 show had got after he left Isaac to it. So why that tone of voice? “What’s up?”

“Magical grandchildren?!”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> The gift that Derek bought for Stiles:
> 
>  
> 
> [](http://imgur.com/0Hv8bch)  
> 
> 
> I was given a beautiful dreamcatcher by Ronniemarie as a gift last year which is why I liked the idea of one for Stiles.


End file.
